


Get up early, stay out late

by bothsidesnow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bothsidesnow/pseuds/bothsidesnow
Summary: Margaery was no longer exactly sure what she’d intended when she had set her sights on Joffrey Baratheon’s limelight, but getting off with his girlfriend hadn’t been it.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69
Collections: 🎲Thrones But Better Because he sure as hell couldn’t do it





	Get up early, stay out late

Margaery was no longer exactly sure what she’d intended when she had set her sights on Joffrey Baratheon’s limelight, but getting off with his girlfriend hadn’t been it.

The plan had originally gone something like: insert herself irreplaceably into Joffrey’s life, seduce him and get rid of his girlfriend, make a name for herself, and then ditch him.

But then, Joffrey had turned out to be such a dick that it really wasn’t worth it in the end. And _then_ , he had turned out to be an actual monster, and Margaery had started to, god forbid, really like Sansa Stark.

And she couldn’t leave her new friend with someone like that.

It was clear after a week’s observation that Joffrey had been systematically isolating Sansa, alienating her from her family and childhood friends. Margaery found herself in the slightly daunting position of being perhaps the only person who had given a toss about Sansa in a really long time.

Sansa was both completely miserable and completely in denial, but Margaery supposed that often came with having no one to tell you that you didn’t actually deserve all the abuse. So here Margaery was, slowly making herself a part of Sansa’s life because she genuinely cared, and someone needed to be there to give her the strength to leave Joffrey.

Margaery had a sneaking suspicion that Sansa didn’t really need her strength – just a little shove in the right direction. No one could stay either as sweet or, on some truly memorable occasions, bitingly sarcastic as Sansa was without having some steel in them.

God, Margaery loved it when Sansa came out with those rare jokes at Joffrey’s expense. Joffrey never really understood that he was being laughed at because, to him, the thought of Sansa as _smart_ was inconceivable.

But Sansa was smart, and observant. Maybe too observant. Two months passed, and honestly at this stage Margaery was really hanging around for her.

“If you were planning on trying to seduce Joffrey, I honestly wouldn’t. He’s really… terrible.”

“ _Seduce_? Are we in the eighteenth century? And I know he’s terrible.” Margaery had snorted, but Sansa had just fixed her with an ice-cold glare.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” Margaery paused. “Seriously though, Sansa, why are you with him?”

Sansa looked down at her hands. “I haven’t heard from my family in ages, I think they feel like I’ve abandoned them.”

“They love you, Sans. They’ll understand.”

“What if they don’t though? I’ve barely spoken to them in a year and a half, and for what? So I can be with _Joffrey_?” Sansa was still looking at her hands, her short, manicured nails picking at the cuticle of her left thumb.

“They’ll get it, I promise. And if they don’t, I’ll still be here.”

“You will?” Sansa looked up then, finally meeting Margaery’s gaze.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Margaery knew what she was saying, “and honestly, if they can’t see how shit this has all been for you, they’re idiots.”

Margaery was still looking directly into Sansa’s eyes, and suddenly her declaration felt unexpectedly romantic.

And then, Sansa did the truly unexpected. First Margaery felt Sansa’s cool hand on her bare thigh, next Sansa was kissing her.

Margaery was far from inexperienced, and she had definitely theoretically known she liked girls for a while, probably more than she did guys, but this was – new. Sansa’s lips were warm and soft, and her hair felt like silk, and Margaery could run her hands through it and gather it in a loose fist to bring Sansa even closer.

Kissing Sansa was nothing like the kinds of kissing she’d done in the past. It was hot and languorous and so _easy_ – Margaery usually felt like she was fighting when she kissed guys. They always seemed to want to be in charge or use way too much tongue, but kissing Sansa was perfectly matched.

She felt like she was melting. Maybe this had been what she was going for when she’d stuck around all along. She should have, but Margaery hadn’t anticipated Sansa Stark to be so bold.

But here was Sansa, drifting her hand up Margaery’s thigh to the hem of her skirt, pulling away ever so slightly so she could ask for affirmation that she was welcome to go under the fabric. Margaery probably should have been embarrassed at her enthusiastic nod, but Sansa’s pupils were almost eclipsing the blue iris with how wide they were, so she was fairly certain this was a moment of mutual heat.

Then Sansa’s hand had found her clit through the thin material of her underwear, and Margaery’s brain, for the first time maybe ever, completely short-circuited. Margaery usually prided herself on her composure, even during sex, but she was starting to realise that having sex with political conquests was _not at all_ like having sex with someone you were actually attracted to.

It was potentially also because, as was becoming clear to Margaery, this was not Sansa’s first rodeo.

“I didn’t even think you-”

“-liked girls?” Sansa finished breathlessly, “I did have a life before Joff, you know.”

“I can tell, I just didn’t expect…”

Sansa punctuated her response with blistering open-mouthed kisses down Margaery’s neck, “I’ve always liked to please people, and I’ve _always_ been good at it.” And then she stopped talking so that she could suck a bruising kiss right at the juncture of Margaery’s neck and shoulder.

At this point, Margaery was just going to expect the unexpected.

And so, when Sansa moved her underwear to the side, getting a thumb on Margaery’s clit directly and moving a finger down to slide against her opening, Margaery anticipated Sansa’s grin at her wetness. Sansa’s fingers were slimmer than her own, to the effect that it was almost a tease to have just one inside her, even if Sansa curled it so it was pressuring just the right spot.

Desperate for a little more, Margaery moved her hands from Sansa’s hair to the sides of her waist until one came to cup her breast. She could feel Sansa’s nipple and tweaked it through her shirt, before unbuttoning the shirt entirely.

If Margaery were honest, her mind was only half there whilst she kissed between Sansa’s breasts, the other half completely lost in the sensation of Sansa’s touch. Sansa finally, _finally_ , added a second finger, and the air was starting to get dangerously thin in Margaery’s chest. She couldn’t help grinding down on Sansa’s hand.

“It’s okay, you can go for it,” Sansa breathed into Margaery’s ear, and brought her arm up to wrap around Margaery’s waist and steady her. Then Sansa was drawing dizzying pressured circles on her clit, and Margaery let go, clenching down around those maddeningly slim fingers.

A minute later, after carrying Margaery through her orgasm, Sansa removed her fingers, holding them up slightly so the wetness caught the light.

“Want to taste?”

Sansa put one finger in her mouth and licked it clean, and then held out the other for Margaery. Margaery tentatively took it past her lips, flushed from the orgasm and the look on Sansa’s face when the taste of Margaery had hit her tongue.

“I thought you were going to break my fingers for a second there,” Sansa laughed, and Margaery blushed in embarrassment too then. “Oh no, don’t look like that, it was _glorious_.”

If Sansa was feeling guilty about Joffrey, she certainly didn’t seem it.

Margaery was trying to think of all the ways she could repay the favour when she heard Sansa sigh, and say, “will you really stick with me if I break things off with Joffrey?”

Margaery would have agreed to many things in that moment, but this one was true – “yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wait... was there actual dialogue in this? As per, let me know what you think! :)


End file.
